


that closes and opens

by seventhstar



Series: a covenant with a bright blazing star [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Regency, Drama, Getting to Know Each Other, Letters, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Misunderstandings, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Regency Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 22:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12945321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: Yuuri's marriage to Viktor is off to a promising start--until he receives a mysterious letter from Viktor's previous patron, the Duke.[part of an ongoing series of fics, telling the story of poor and scandalous trademan's son viktor nikiforov's marriage of convenience to the reclusive lord katsuki]





	that closes and opens

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, folks, here is your MEGA UPDATE: not one, not two, but four more fics in these series are being posted today! so if you're not subscribed, here's your alert: keep reading! (there's more porn if that helps)
> 
> Reminder that the fics in this series are not being written in chronological order, so if you're reading them as I have them listed in the series, you might find yourself rereading. Check the date posted to see which ones are new!

 Yuuri is sick to death of reading about roofs.

The tenant’s cottages must be rethatched. The windows on the second story are drafty, and must be reinforced. A new system of magically powered piping can be laid from the well to increase the efficiency of their irrigation in the fields, but it must be done immediately if the work is to be complete by spring in time for planting. A disease killed half the livestock over the summer, and deciding how to replace them has been a monumental chore. Yuuri’s man in town has sent him a list of probable investments to choose from for diversification, but Yuuri has no way to tell the good from bad, as he is not in trade, and he despairs of losing his limited funds due to his own ignorance. And he does not want to ask Mari to investigate for him unless he must.

And to add to all that, Minako insists that Yuuri spend on the house itself. Updates have been sparse since his mother took up residence after his parents’ wedding; the lighting is sputtering, the wallpaper is peeling, and the furniture is hopelessly out of date in the rooms his mother never touched.

Yuuri cannot see the point in having a fine house and barren fields, but Minako insists he must think of his reputation.

“No one will care for the state of my house, if I cannot grow crops or shear sheep next year.”

“If the house looks rundown, the tradesmen will have no confidence in your repayment. Your tenants will wonder if you mean to raise their rents. Your guests will whisper that you are poor, and once that happens…”

“What guests?”

“The ones you will have for the holidays. A successful houseparty will do much for the health of the estate.”

“I cannot have a houseparty if you intend to return to town for the winter.”

“Why?”

Yuuri flounders. “Can Viktor really—” he trails off. He cannot imagine presenting Viktor to the ton with any degree of credit. One wrong word will cement his reputation among them forever; his position is dubious enough as it is.  “Can he host a party?”

“I could try and teach him. I don’t know how his previous…patrons…arranged things. I do not move in those circles.”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t move in them, either. Some of the things one hears are immoral in the extreme.”

If Minako thinks Viktor’s circle is disgraceful, it must be totally without propriety. Minako is a well-known eccentric, but eminently respectable all the same. She would not look down on Viktor for a mild transgression.

It is just the luck of the Katsuki family that his mother and Minako were at the same school together, and kept up the correspondence even as life took them separate ways. After the death of Minako’s wife, Minako never married again. Yuuri knows she loved her wife very much, despite the brevity of their courtship and their subsequent marriage.

“I cannot imagine what possessed you.” Minako sighs. “I thought I had impressed upon you the gravity of marriage.”

“We needed the money,” Yuuri says. “There was no other way—not quickly—not without everyone knowing.”

“I could have leant you—”

“No.”

Minako has no estate of her own. She has her dowry, and the settlement left to her by her wife, which allows her to live comfortably, but it is not so much money that Yuuri could have asked for a loan.

Besides, to admit to Minako how dire his straits were is…

“Yuuri…”

“It is done now.” Yuuri shrugs, and then straightens. “If you could only keep him from—I don’t want—” He scowls, looking for the words. “He seems pleased enough to be here…”

He doesn’t want Viktor to be hurt by all the things that will no doubt be said. As the days pass, Yuuri is beginning to envy Viktor’s total lack of self-consciousness regarding his birth and his past; he acts just as if Yuuri married him for nobler reasons, and seems hungry for company. His conversation is light; he never asks Yuuri difficult questions. Yuuri likes the lines around Viktor’s eye when he smiles; he would rather not ruin their fragile peace by subjecting Viktor to a society he will not be able to move in comfortably.

Perhaps if Yuuri could be assured that his guests would only be his close friends (if he is honest, his one close friend and a few acquaintances), but with the Duke neighboring him…

He will have to observe Viktor and see.

 _Observe Viktor,_ Yuuri thinks, scathingly. That is a fine way of putting it. _Moon over him, more like._

“Still, this is much to take on yourself,” Minako says. “I had hoped…”

Yuuri swallows. Someone to help him manage the estate would have been a godsend at this time, it is true. But he feels churlish blaming Viktor for being of no use; it is not Viktor’s fault, after all, that he was not raised with the requisite skills.

Minako withdraws, no doubt to force him to hold a houseparty when he least expects it, and Yuuri sets aside the roofs and turns his attention to his planned domestic improvements. The quartz merchant is due to arrive this afternoon to estimate the cost of relighting the house, and Yuuri does not want to meet him ignorant. He and Mari discussed purchasing something finer for the common rooms of the house, but glass was prone to exploding, diamond too small, and lightning lamps too dear.

So quartz it is. It is a pity; Yuuri would have liked to see a lightning lamp in person.

The price of quartz has risen this year, as the quarries begin to empty, and Yuuri wonders if he ought to risk glass in the family wing after all. The quartz light above his bed is too dim to read by, but he and Mari are not so above themselves as to refuse to use a candle while they lay aside money for next year. Minako has the talent to make light magically, as she used to do when she was on the stage, but neither Yuuri nor Mari ever managed the trick of it.

(Or perhaps Mari pretends not to be able to—in espionage, such deception about one’s abilities must be important.)

The letter is straightforward enough; Yuuri winces a bit at the price, but it is what he expected. He puts the letter aside. There is still a stack of unopened correspondence on his desk. Yuuri sorts through it—the letters from Phichit, Celestino, the Crispino siblings he puts aside to be answered later—and he opens the first one of note, from the Duke who lives on the neighboring estate. It is an invitation to bring his new husband to a dinner party.

How does he know? Yuuri has not yet spread the news to anyone. He even forwent the announcement in the paper. The letter has a second page, this one covered in close, messy writing. It looks as if the Duke wrote it himself, rather than dictating it to his secretary. How odd. The Duke and Yuuri are not well acquainted, Yuuri being only a Viscount, and Yuuri cannot think of any reason for him to write to Yuuri at length. He picks up the page and holds it close to his face.

_…regret to inform you of his proclivities…_

Yuuri flushes. He knows perfectly well how the Duke learned of Viktor’s proclivities.

_…was surprised to hear that he had married you, when he is so fond of fine things, but after what occurred I cannot imagine he could continue as he had been. I would be obliged to warn any alpha who took up with him of the truth. I regret to write to you so plainly, but Viktor Nikiforov is a thief._

“Impossible,” Yuuri says. If Viktor could arrange to live off the largess of a Duke, why would he stoop to stealing from Yuuri? It is irrational. But he keeps reading.

_….I believe that it is a compulsion of his, perhaps, some madness from his family, as is found in those of low birth. He has a particular taste for books, though he is no great reader. I would advise you to watch him carefully, and assign him loyal servants, ones you trust, to ensure that…_

Yuuri’s first impulse is to dismiss it—why would Viktor want to steal books when the Duke’s house is filled with art, gilded furniture, foci? When rich and powerful alphas were willing to offer him money just for his—company? But it is such an oddly specific detail that Yuuri finds himself finishing the letter, and reading it again, and reading it again. He supposes that the Duke might begrudge Yuuri for taking Viktor off the market. This letter might be nothing more than petty revenge.

He sets it aside, too. It is of no account.

The rest of the letters are from merchants, regarding updated furnishings, irrigation, and sheep. One is for his sister; Yuuri does not open it and instead tucks it into a desk drawer to be passed to her later. He makes notes about the cost of the sheep, carefully scratching out sums on a half sheet of paper. This is a new breed, hardier and woollier, supposedly, but also more expensive. Perhaps he should experiment and buy some of his stock from the sheep farmers he used previously.

Yuuri has been warned repeatedly about Viktor—about him being mercenary, about him being manipulative, about him being untrustworthy. Yet none of those scathing descriptions of his character seem in line with the Viktor that Yuuri sees, who smiles and charms and feeds Vicchan scraps at breakfast shamelessly instead of eating himself. Surely, if Viktor was solely bent on financial gain, he would apply himself to actually asking Yuuri for money.

“Ridiculous,” he says. What people say cannot be true; there must be some misunderstanding.

He writes a letter arranging the purchase of the sheep, another about re-upholstery, and then hesitates before folding up the Duke’s missive and putting it in his desk.

He ought to continue working. But surely a short walk won’t hurt.

Yuuri steps out of the study, toys with the idea of the back garden, the kitchen, and then goes into the library. He looks around; there are no obvious gaps where books have gone missing. And of course there shouldn’t be. He’s being ridiculous.

He checks every shelf, anyway. Three of Yuuri’s old magical texts are not in place, but it’s possible Yuuri has forgotten to bring them back after consulting them. The magical texts are not particularly valuable. One of them has a mark on the spine where Yuuri set it on fire after a night of drunken revelry.

He shakes his head and goes to the kitchen to forage; he is starving, and he should not meet with the quartz merchant on an empty stomach. The cook produces two rolls and a piece of cheese, which she wraps and gives to him in a warm napkin. Yuuri devours them in huge, ill-mannered bites, and it is with a mouthful of roll and cheese that Viktor stumbles upon him.

Unlike Yuuri, Viktor has neither ink stains upon his fingers nor wrinkles in his coat. He is wearing dark blue, with a pin in his cravat that gleams, and tendrils of hair fall around his face in curls that are either a blessing from above or the result of whatever witchcraft beautiful creatures like Viktor work when they are alone. Yuuri is not sure which of those options would impress him more.

“There you are,” Viktor says. “I have been having the most interesting conversation with Mr. Fitzwilliam—”

“What?”

“Although his quartz is expensive. I have managed to convince him to accept a more reasonable price—”

“You haggled with the quartz merchant?”

“Yes? Your sister told me you were very busy, my dear, I did not wish to disturb you.”

It would be difficult to overstate how disturbing Yuuri finds it, that Viktor apparently convinced a quartz merchant to let him purchase lighting for the house with neither Yuuri’s supervision or permission, but Viktor is right, he is very busy. If Viktor were married to him in the usual way, Yuuri would ask him to take on some of the household responsibilities. It’s commendable, really, that Viktor has, considering…

(He haggled. Yuuri has never argued over price in his life; it is not done.

He wonders, guiltily, how much Viktor saved.)

Well. Yuuri still feels as if he’s been tipped off the side of a boat at sea, but he manages a smile. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> i finished outlining this entire fic (and have like ten more scenes planned if all goes well) so comment if you want more!


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